


If equal affection cannot be

by delishe



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Basically the four of them share one braincell and Fabiola has it most of the time, Ben and Devi still argue all the time, Eleanor is extra af, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delishe/pseuds/delishe
Summary: Ben sometimes thinks about how the smallest things have changed his life completely, how saying yes on a whim to an invitation to dinner probably saved him from years and years of loneliness. He imagines another world where he and Devi go on hating each other for the rest of their lives, and he honestly can’t imagine anything worse.Alternate Universe in which Ben and Devi have been friends since fifth grade, and he's hopelessly in love with her.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 49
Kudos: 100





	1. Prologue

Sometimes it is easy not to realise how one small decision can completely change how your life turns out. In one universe, Devi Vishwakumar chooses to have a second juice box the morning of her fifth-grade spelling bee. As a result, after the results are announced (and she and Ben Gross have a particularly vicious taunting match regarding his win), she rushes to the bathroom to pee. There, she gets distracted re-braiding her hair, which had gotten particularly out of place due to said taunting match. Because of this, she and her parents don’t see Ben waiting to be picked up by his family’s chauffeur. They go home, celebrate Devi’s second place win, and she and Ben remain nemeses for the next five years.

But in this universe, Devi does not drink the second juice box. Her mom sees her reaching for it in time and reminds her that it would be _disastrous_ if she had to pee while on stage and misspells a word because of it. She scowls, but she knows her mom is right. So she goes to the spelling bee, wins second place (misspelling O-u-a-g-a-d-o-u-g-o-u as O-a-g-a-d-o-u-g-o-u), while Ben wins first place (correctly spelling b-o-u-r-g-e-o-i-s), which she does not take well. She is still ranting about it as she walks with her parents with her car. “It was totally UNFAIR that Ben got such an easy word. And HE IS bourgeois. OF COURSE he would know how to spell it! I got the name of a PLACE. It’s not even ENGLISH!”

“Technically Devi, ‘bourgeois’ is French,” her mother informs her, but there is amusement in her eyes.

“Well fine, but at least it’s not a totally useless word. When would I even need to use Ouagadougou in a sentence anyway?” Devi demanded, waving her second-place trophy to express her annoyance.

“You never know, the United Nations could send you to Burkina Faso…” her father stops short, squinting. “Is that Ben Gross? Who’s he waiting for?”

Devi looks, and rolls her eyes. It is indeed Ben Gross, kicking his legs as he sits on a bench at the drop-off point. His massive first-place trophy is in his lap, and he has both arms around it. “Yeah. He’s just waiting for his _chauffeur,”_ she sneers, over-exaggerating the French. “Can you believe it? Who even has a chauffeur?”

“I can’t believe his parents didn’t come for this,” her father says, sharing a glance with her mother. “He won first place!”

“First place isn’t that big a deal,” Devi mumbles, but she realises in that instant that her father is right. She had always taken for granted that both her parents would always attend all her spelling bees, science fairs, and orchestra concerts. No matter how insignificant, they were always there for her. Meanwhile, she does not remember ever seeing Ben’s parents at one of these things. 

“I heard his dad works really long hours,” her mother sighs. “He’s some kind of a big shot lawyer. Not sure about the mom – she’s never at the PTA meetings or events.”

“We should invite him over for dinner,” her father says cheerfully. Before Devi can react, he’s already shouting, “Ben! Hey Ben!”

Ben looks up, confused. Her father waves and jogs towards the drive-in, leaving Devi behind, slack jawed and betrayed. She can feel her mother holding in laughter behind her. Is she a joke to them? “MOM,” she can barely get the words out in her horror, “STOP HIM.”

“I’m sorry Devi, but you know how your dad gets once he gets an idea like this.”

Devi watches helplessly as Ben’s chauffeur pulls into the drive-in and lowers his window to speak to Devi’s father. She cannot hear what they’re saying, but she knows her father is informing the chauffeur that Ben will be joining them for dinner. Ben shrugs, as if in agreement. The chauffeur makes a call on his cell phone, then drives away. _Oh God,_ Devi thinks, _this is actually happening._

If this had been her mother’s idea, Devi would have raised all hell. She is used to fighting her mom over the smallest things, let alone something as huge as inviting her worst enemy over to dinner. But her dad? Her dad was always on her side. She is more overcome with shock than pissed with the sudden turn of events when her father approaches them with Ben. “Ben will be joining us for dinner today,” her dad says, in a tone entirely too chipper for the circumstances.

“We’re very happy to have you, Ben,” her mom smiles at him warmly.

Ben refuses to make eye contact with Devi, but he gives her mom a polite smile as clutches his trophy even tighter. “Thanks for the invitation, Mrs Vishwakumar.”

Devi is unable to keep up the pretence at any longer. She rolls her eyes and stomps over to the car, crossing her arms angrily. She won’t say anything rude to Ben for her dad’s sake, but she’d be damned if she was going to pretend like she was happy about the situation. She sits in a sullen silence for the entire ride home, determined to make Ben know how unwelcome he was.

Dinner is no improvement on the situation. Ben is the perfect house guest – volunteering to set the table, complimenting her mother’s cooking (although it is obviously too spicy for him), laughing way too hard at all her father’s dad jokes – Devi can only assume this is all a ploy to make her seem like a terrible child in contrast. Her mom gives her a look that’s only slightly stern, and mouths _be nice_ at her, but she can tell her mom is enjoying the situation. She looks like she can barely hold her laughter in. This only annoys Devi further.

“So um, Ben,” her father says, eager to diffuse the situation, “what do you do in your spare time?”

Ben looks confused for a moment, as if no one has ever asked him that question before. “Er, well, study, of course. Play basketball…”

“That’s cool, are you on a team?” Devi’s dad perks up, thinking he’s finally latched on to a conversation topic.

“No… I, er, prefer to play by myself. Yeah, then I don’t have to worry about anyone hogging the ball,” Ben explains lamely, and even Devi feels a twinge of pity at that. She doesn’t remember Ben having very much friends at school, but the idea of him playing basketball alone in his spare time is just sad. “I also play videogames I guess. Watch some TV. Listen to Supreme Court oral arguments,” he finishes, in what Devi can only assume is an attempt to brown nose. Sure, _she_ listens to Supreme Court oral arguments sometimes (she doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but she will, eventually), but who tells people that?

“Oh, er… who’s your favourite judge?” Devi’s dad asks. It’s an awkward question, but Devi supposes there isn’t really a manual out there for how to speak to nerdy pre-teens. She braces herself for Ben to say something lame like Scalia, but he surprises her.

“Justice Ginsberg, probably,” he says, shrugging. Devi drops her fork.

“No way!” she says, her voice tinged in disbelief. “Ginsburg? But she’s a _liberal_!”

“I’m _socially_ liberal, I just believe in prudent fiscal spending,” Ben says, as if it’s a normal thing for an eleven-year-old to say. Devi feels her parents exchange a glance, as if to say, _good Lord, there’s two of them._ “Anyway, Ginsburg is really cool. She’s like, the first female Jewish judge to sit on the Supreme Court.”

“ _I know!_ And she’s like, only the second female judge on the Supreme Court ever!” Devi lets her excitement overtake her for awhile. Eleanor and Fabiola are smart, but they’re not really interested in politics in the same way she is. They know about RBG because she’s an _icon,_ but they don’t care so much about what she represented. She’d always known, abstractly, that Ben enjoyed politics, but she’d never thought he had any views that were even worth listening to. 

“Yeah, I’m so glad Obama appointed Sotomayor and Kagan. More diversity on the Bench is _way_ overdue,” Ben looks as excited as she does, and she realises he probably doesn’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff either. It’s the first time she thinks, _hey, I guess Ben isn’t that bad._

Devi and Ben wind up doing the dishes together – Ben volunteers to do so, whereupon her mom protests because “you’re a guest!”, and Ben insists some more, and Devi eventually breaks up the fight by offering, even to her own surprise, to help him. “Do you want to soap or rinse?” Devi asks him, as she looks for a second pair of rubber gloves. He looks at her blankly. She laughs, “you’ve… never done dishes before, have you?” 

“No,” he says sheepishly, and only a little defensively. “Patty – my housekeeper – does that at home and I – well, I know you’re _supposed_ to volunteer to do the dishes when you’re invited to someone else’s house, but I’ve never, well – I’ve never been…”

“No way!” she exclaims. She tries to imagine a life without sleepovers, without Eleanor’s dad’s homemade stir-fries and without fake high-tea at Fabiola’s house. “Never?”

“Well… I’ve been to parties at peoples’ houses. But only the boring, adult kinds… no one really does dishes at those parties,” Ben explains.

“You mean the fancy kinds in the movies, with all servers in tuxedos walking around holding plates of canapes in one hand?” she asks excitedly. “That sounds so cool!”

“Eh, its boring. Canapes are lame. You can eat then all night and you’ll still be hungry afterwards. After awhile I just told my parents to leave me at home,” he shrugged. “That way I could play video games all night. Or study.”

She hesitates, noticing how he doesn’t meet her gaze when he talks about his parents. “Your parents didn’t come today too?” she asks lightly, knowing the answer.

“Nah. They never come to any of my stuff. I’m not sure they even really know what a spelling bee is,” he laughs, a tinge of irony in his voice. “My dad had a meeting with Beyoncé _and_ Jay-Z today. No one would give that up to go to a dumb grade school spelling bee. And its work, anyways. Not like he’s at a party or something.”

Devi’s heard him brag about his dad and his famous clients before, and it always annoyed her. _Yeah, we get it, your dad knows all of Beverly Hills,_ she’d sneered at him once, and he’d told her she was just jealous. And maybe she was, a little. How do you not be jealous of someone whose dad regularly breathes the same oxygen as Beyoncé? But now she just feels bad for him. “You… you did really well today,” she says finally. It’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to him, and she almost regrets it the moment she says it, convinced he’d immediately crow about it, mocking her for _finally admitting his superiority_ or something.

“You did well too,” he says instead, his lips turning up at the side in a half-smile that’s almost sad, somehow. “I definitely couldn’t spell – what was your word again?”

“Ouagadougou,” she says, sighing dramatically.

“Yeah! That’s a place, right? Where is it again?”

“It’s the capital of Burkina Faso,” she says, almost smugly. “Did you not know that? I mean, I heard Americans are bad at Geography, but _still…_ ”

“Oh, shut up, like you knew where it was before today,” he laughs, shoving her slightly.

“Nope,” she confesses, laughing, “Not until they gave me the definition!”

“You see,” he counters smugly, “at least I _knew_ what my word meant!”

“ _Everyone_ knows what it means! It’s easy!” 

“Only we know what it means,” he says, and she knows he’s right. He was really one of the few people in the school who could keep up with her – and who enjoyed reading four years above their grade.

“Come on,” she says, passing him the sponge, “I’ll show you how to do dishes.”

\---

Ben is almost nervous to see Devi at school the next day, which he realises is ridiculous. He’s seen her almost every day for the last three years and for most of that time, she’s been a thorn in his side. A rival. An arch-nemesis. And now he has dinner at her house one time, and he’s _nervous?_

Truth be told, it’s one of the best nights he’s had in a long time by a long shot. It doesn’t have very much competition, really – Patty cooks well but he eats alone most nights. Sometimes his mom joins him, when she’s not at some spiritual retreat, but she usually just says “that’s nice, dear” while scrolling her phone. Eventually, he stopped telling her about his day at all. The only time he really has dinner with both his parents is when his mom insists on his dad splurging on a fancy dinner for the three of them. He wears his best suit and eats food he’s sure Devi’s never even _heard of,_ and even gets to meet the chef afterward. But none of that can compare with too-spicy Indian food and doing the dishes with people that actually listen to him.

Devi bounds up to him as he’s getting his books from his locker, and almost instantly he realises he needn’t have worried. There’s no awkwardness at all when she leans against the lockers and says brightly, “what’s up, bougie boy?”

“None of your business, commie scum,” he retorts, but there’s no sting in his words at all. He’s relieved, he realises, that they can still bicker like this even though they’re now – friends? He’s not sure, but Devi is voluntarily talking to him, and she’s never done that before except to brag about beating him in some test or competition. That must count for something, right?

“So, are you doing anything after school?” she asks, as they start walking to class together.

“Er, let me think,” he says, as if he has any kind of social life at all, “Nope, I think I’m free, actually. What’s up?”

“My friends, Fabiola and Eleanor, wanted to go to this carnival in town, and I thought you might want to join us,” she says breezily, though she looks at him with the tiniest flash of concern he may turn her down. “I mean, it’s probably not as fancy as your canape parties, but we can stuff ourselves with cotton candy and get our faces painted.”

Ben despises cotton candy, and the idea of someone _painting on his face_ with brushes that have touched a million other faces makes him physically nauseous. “I guess I could – “ he says, but he never reaches the end of that sentence, because someone shoves him hard into the lockers as they blow past.

“Get out of my way,” the person snarls at them. Ben realises, belatedly, that it’s Jeremy Davis, and groans inside. Jeremy turns around and sniggers when he sees Ben rubbing his shoulder in pain, and sneers something at him that makes Devi gasp.

“Did he just call you a –“ Devi says, her voice shaking in anger.

“Yeah. He’s a dick – he’s still pissed I told Mrs Brown that he cheated off my test last year,” Ben explains tiredly, before realising Devi isn’t standing beside him anymore. He looks around, almost comically confused, before her realises that she’s running after Jeremy, her fists clenched with purpose.

“Hey DICK HEAD,” he hears her shout, and suddenly it’s like everything is in slow motion. Jeremy starts to turn around, mouth open and ready to utter another slur, but before anything can happen or anyone can react, Devi has _jumped on Jeremy,_ knocking him straight onto the floor. Ben realises that Devi is insanely lucky she has the element of surprise, she’s half Jeremy’s size and has obviously not fought anyone in her life, but Jeremy is too shocked at being attacked by a whirlwind of flailing limbs that he barely reacts before a teacher intervenes and pulls her right off him. She is still screaming and waving her fists at him as Jeremy stands up, slack jawed at the sudden turn of events.

Naturally, they are all called into the Principal’s office, and everyone’s parents are called. The Principal starts off by scolding Devi for literally attacking a fellow student without warning but stops in her tracks when Devi tells her what Jeremy called Ben. “He’s a racist, anti-Semitic PIECE OF CRAP,” Devi rants, still fired up from earlier. Devi’s parents look like they want to tell her not to swear but are stunned into silence at what Jeremy said.

Thankfully, so is Jeremy’s mom, a liberal environmental lawyer with hopes of one day running for office, who is not about to have her dreams ruined because her son spends his summers with her racist in-laws. Once she realises what’s at stake, she apologises so quickly that Ben’s dad (attending the meeting via speaker, on his way to the airport) does not even have to threaten to sue.

The Principal sternly informs Devi that violence is not the answer and she should be telling a teacher about such incidents, but no one says anything when Devi huffs and refuses to apologise. Even Jeremy, who has not yet come to terms with the fact that he just got beaten up by a girl in front of half the school, does not protest. Jeremy is given fifty hours of community service, and Devi is given detention.

“Why did you do that?” he asks her, still slightly awestruck, as they walked back to class. “You could’ve gotten really hurt.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffs, “I had to stand up for what was right. Besides, you’re my friend now.” She smiles at him, and he feels his chest tighten. He doesn’t understand it then, but looking back, that’s when it began. When she charged straight at some guy twice her size, completely fearless, because she was on his side. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like someone was truly on his side. Even years later, that memory of her hair whipping behind her as she hurtled down the hallway like an arrow would be as clear as the day it happened.

They are best friends from that day onwards. She introduces him to Fabiola and Eleanor, who are confused that Devi and Ben have somehow gotten over their differences overnight, but they don’t protest, especially when they get to ride in his dad’s Porsche. Eventually, they become real friends too. Eleanor shares Ben’s fondness for musical theatre, and Fabiola and Ben realise they both have an awkward relationship with their parents. The four of them become inseparable.

Devi’s parents basically adopt him, especially when they find out the extent of his parent’s neglect – the school nights he’s left all alone, the parent-teachers meetings they never turn up to, the holidays he spends alone playing video games. His spice tolerance builds up slowly but surely with all the dinners he has at their place, and he even learns to cook some of the dishes. He gloats when his samosas turn out perfectly crispy and delicious and Devi’s are an oily, soggy mess, and preens when Devi’s mom declares his Masala Dosa “almost authentic”. But most of all, he finally gets a father figure in Devi’s dad, who shows him, for the first time in his life, what it means to have a dad that puts family first. His own parents don’t turn up to his middle school graduation, but Devi’s parents bring them both bouquets. Devi’s dad hugs him and tells him he’s proud of him, and it almost takes away Ben’s disappointment.

During Devi’s horrific, traumatic freshman year, Ben is by her side the entire way. He’s in the audience at her orchestra concernt when her father has a heart attack, and rides with her in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, both of them crying too hard to speak. He holds her hand at the funeral and brings her mom Patty’s home-made casseroles when the family is grieving. When Devi loses the use of her legs, he stays up late reading scientific papers on psychosomatic disorders and post-traumatic stress disorder until the words blur together on the screen. Of course, he finds out later that she starts walking again at the sight of _Paxton,_ of all people, but he’s too happy that she can walk again to make too much of that (or so he tells himself).

Ben sometimes thinks about how the smallest things have changed his life completely, how saying yes on a whim to an invitation to dinner probably saved him from years and years of loneliness. He imagines another world where he and Devi go on hating each other for the rest of their lives, and he honestly can’t imagine anything worse. So it’s not so bad that Devi doesn’t reciprocate his feelings – the feelings which he’d convinced himself would go away with time but somehow got more and more out of hand with every passing year – or even have an inkling that he has feelings for her, because what would the alternative be? After five years of having real friends that have his back, and family that actually enjoy spending time with him, he can’t go back to being alone. And he definitely can’t go back to a life without Devi, to having her insult him because she hates him rather than because its hilarious.

So, at the start of Sophomore year, he only has one wish. He doesn’t think he really believes in God, but he allows himself a semi-prayer before school starts. He wishes that Devi would finally see him as more than a friend. 


	2. Chapter 1

The first day of sophomore year found Eleanor, Fabiola and Ben standing in the school courtyard, waiting for Devi’s arrival. “So, do you think this year is the year you finally tell her?” Eleanor asked Ben casually, without need for further context. Ben narrowed his eyes at her, and she raised her hands in faux innocence. “Hey, it would be good to know. I’m not sure how long more I can take of your _relentless pining,”_ she said, with a melodramatic flourish.

Eleanor and Fabiola had found out about Ben’s massive crush on Devi pretty quickly after they became friends – unfortunately, his eleven year old self was not as subtle with his affections as one would have hoped (there may have been some wistful staring involved), and he had been paying the price ever since. While Ben had successfully sworn them to secrecy, they never stopped badgering him to tell Devi his feelings. Thankfully, there had always been a bevy of excuses over the years – that it was just a silly crush that would go away by the end of the year (it didn’t), that middle school relationships were lame (they were, but that didn’t stop him from hoping), or that Devi had way too much going on in her life, what with her father’s death and her paralysis (to be fair, this was actually a good reason).

This was most disappointing for Eleanor, who had always declared Ben and Devi to be her ultimate OTP. In sixth grade, Eleanor had all but planned out her bridesmaid’s speech for their wedding – a ten-minute long, one-woman performance, involving elements of spoken word poetry and musical theatre. Fortunately, in recent years, she settled for narrating dramatically when Devi was out of earshot: “he stared at her, wistfully, wishing that she would turn around and for once – _just once –_ notice how he looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention.” Ben had to admit, it would be pretty hilarious if she was not openly mocking his pain.

Thankfully, Fabiola came to his rescue – with more heartbreaking truths. “I’m not sure this year is the best timing for him, El. She does have that massive crush on Paxton,” she said, looking at Ben apologetically. “I mean, she _walked again_ at the sight of him. It’s like, right out of a fairytale.”

Ben opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Devi running up to them. “Guys! Sophomore year is gonna be our year. I can feel it,” she beamed.

“If this is about you finally beating me in school, we both know that ain’t happening,” Ben informed her.

“Oh please. You _know_ I’m gonna beat your ass in every AP class,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But no, nerd, I’m not talking about academics. We’re uncool! I have this amazing plan that’s going to make us popular. We’re rebranding. We are glamorous women of colour – and Ben – and we deserve to have a sexy high school experience.”

“You take that back,” Ben muttered half-heartedly, but Devi was already detailing her plan for how Fabiola and Eleanor should modify their personalities, before finally arriving at him.

“And you, Ben, I mean, you’re smart _and_ loaded, and you’re surprisingly jacked for a guy that’s like, 5”2, but could you like, not mention your dad every other sentence? I mean, daddy issues look weird on anyone, but its particularly strange on like, a fifteen-year-old white guy.”

“I’m just giving the people what they want! My dad’s life is cooler than anything they could possibly experience in their tragic, proletariat existence,” Ben protested. To be honest, he didn’t even mention his dad that much around other people anymore. It was mostly a funny, low-effort way to get a slight rise out of Devi.

“Fine, if you guys refuse to change your personalities, I guess we’ll just skip to step two and get boyfriends – well, and girlfriend, for Ben,” Devi shrugged, completely nonplussed when her friends choked at the very idea. “I’ve chosen attainable, yet status enhancing people for each of us to date.”

Ben was really only half listening as Devi informed Eleanor and Fabiola of her picks for them. His multi-year crush on Devi had been filled with highs and lows, but well, this had got to be the lowest low since Paxton made her walk again, like a half-Japanese Jesus with cheekbones you could cut yourself on. Ben had always known that Devi didn’t realise his feelings for her, but deep down, he had harboured hope that she subconsciously _knew,_ and maybe even had feelings for him as well. If she was picking out someone else for him to date, well – the chances of that were slim to none, weren’t they?

“And Ben, you’ll date Shira Aarons,” Devi announced, and the very idea was so ridiculous Ben was instantly brought back to reality.

“Shira?” he scoffed, “She’s like, actually popular. She has five thousand Instagram followers and a fabfitfun sponsorship. David, you’ve had some ridiculous ideas in the past, but this is something else.”

“Yeah Devi, I thought you said these people were supposed to be _attainable,”_ Fabiola pointed out.

“Totally, you’re just setting Ben up for failure,” Eleanor winked at him, as if to say, _I gotcha back bro._ Ben decidedly did not return the wink.

“You don’t think I’ve thought through this stuff? Shira’s like, perfect for Ben. She’s obsessed with the Kardashians – or really, anyone that’s verified on Instagram – and Ben loves gloating about all his dad’s rich and famous clients. It’s a match made in heaven,” Devi said, undeterred, as if she wasn’t asking Ben to walk up to one of the most popular girls in the school and magically get her to go out with him. “Plus, unlike us, bougie boy’s rich as hell. She’ll go for it.” 

“And who did you pick for yourself, David?” Ben asked, his voice snider than intended, eager to steer the topic away from his dating prospects.

“Jonah Sharpe,” Devi declared proudly.

“Devi… Jonah Sharpe is gay,” Eleanor explained, confused.

Ben couldn’t help but snigger. “Yeah David, I know you _have_ a mustache, but trying to _be_ a beard is really next level.”

Devi narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, shut up, you ungrateful jerk. I _know_ he’s gay, but he’s technically not out yet, and he’s really popular. I’ll just use him to springboard onto a straight boyfriend.” 

“You realise you sound like a sociopath right?”

“Sociopaths get shit done, Fab. Now go sit next to your marks and lock them down!”

Because Shira was not in their AP History class – and really, Ben had no intention of following through with Devi’s plan even if she were – Ben defaulted to sitting sullenly in the front row. He tried his best not to listen to Devi’s attempts to flirt with Jonah, which, he admitted to himself, would have been pretty entertaining if he was not an interested party. 

As if his day could not get any worse, Ben had to resist an urge to groan as Paxton took his seat in front of Devi. And apparently, he was not the only one struggling to keep his feelings to himself, because at that moment, he heard Devi say, almost reverently, “ _Damn._ ”

She was saved by Mr. Shapiro’s general cluelessness, but Ben couldn’t resist getting a jibe in after class anyway. “Man, David, watching you flirt with Jonah was just about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. And I saw my dad run over our cat.”

“That’s just unnecessary. You know I loved Mrs. Schnugglepuff,” Devi huffed, “I still think _you_ killed her because you couldn’t get over the fact that she liked me better.” Well, that much was true, Mrs. Schnugglepuff did have an obvious preference for Devi, although it was only obvious because she detested Ben, and snarled whenever he approached. But he wasn’t going to _actually_ murder a cat, especially given how fond Devi was of the foul creature.

“Please refrain from making baseless allegations, Vishwakumar. And your obvious objectification of Paxton? Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean he isn’t deserving of respect.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You heard Mr. Shapiro, I was obviously just excited for a _litty_ year of being _shooketh_.”

Ben laughed, “That guy is basically what you’d get if you fed a badly programmed AI a bunch of tumblr posts and got it to design a class in performative woke-ness.”

“Right? It’s like homeboy started pushing forty and became obsessed with trying to reclaim his youth or something. Anyway, I’ve got AP Bio in like 2 minutes. Seeya!”

Devi was barely out of earshot before Eleanor appeared by his side, narrating in her usual melodramatic voice, “Each time he watched her leave, it was like having his heart physically torn in two, but he could never look away, because he cherished every moment with her, even the moments that were too painful to bear.”

“Haha, that’s hilarious, Wong,” Ben deadpanned, “you should like, write a novel about it.”

“I _have_ written a novel about it,” Eleanor said, as if this was much was obvious, “What do you think I’ve been quoting from all this time?”

“I don’t know, I figured you came up with that crap spontaneously.”

“Eh, some of it. It’s a work in progress. It’s got a ton of hits on WattPad.”

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty good,” Fabiola chimed in, “her R-rated companion series is like, really popular. It could definitely be the next Fifty Shades of Grey, except with an accurate representation of safe BDSM relationships.”

“That’s ridiculous. I could sue you for that,” Ben complained, as the three of them walked towards the library for their free period.

“It’s fine, Ben, I changed your names and everything. Or should I call you – _Bernard Godfrey_?” Eleanor grinned, thrilled at her own ingenuity.

“That’s a fucking stupid name, and you know it.”

“Not for the 1920s, where the novel is set,” Eleanor said dismissively, waving a hand at him. “What? I wanted to make a cameo as a sexy flapper girl.”

“As hilarious as this conversation is,” Fabiola interjected, being the voice of reason as usual, “Eleanor, didn’t you have something you wanted to discuss?”

“Right. I wanted to tell you guys this morning but… I have a boyfriend,” Eleanor said, pausing for effect.

“You what?” Fabiola exclaimed. “Who? When? Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“More importantly,” Ben intoned, “why didn’t you want to tell Devi this? I assume that’s why you didn’t tell us earlier?”

“It’s Oliver Martinez… he’s tech crew, and we only just became official yesterday. I was going to tell you guys, but Devi came in and she was all excited about us all getting boyfriends, I didn’t want to upstage her by saying I already had a boyfriend, I’m afraid she’ll get upset and won’t be able to handle it, especially with her legs –“

“Eleanor, Devi lost the use of her legs because she was traumatized from her dad’s death. I’m not sure your having a boyfriend is quite on the same level,” Ben interrupted, unimpressed.

“I know that, but I don’t wanna risk it, y’know? She was all excited about sophomore year and everything.”

“Maybe if you just hid it from her until she got a boyfriend, then you can pretend things didn’t work out with the Russian guy, but it’s all cool because you have a new boyfriend,” Fabiola mused.

“You guys really think this is a good idea?” Ben asked, disbelieving, “I mean she’ll be disappointed for sure that you didn’t need her scheming to get a boyfriend, but she’s gonna _flip so hard_ if she finds out you hid this from her, it won’t even be funny.”

“Well yeah, that’s why the plan is to make sure she _doesn’t_ find out,” Eleanor explained, as if Ben was an idiot, “That way, she won’t be disappointed, and she won’t be pissed.”

“Yeah Eleanor, because discretion is your middle name,” Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just leave me out of it when she inevitably finds out and murders you.”

\---

To Eleanor’s credit, her plan worked for almost two whole days. It probably would have worked a few days longer if not for the fact that Ben and Devi got into a massive row during AP History, and got punished with detention. Eleanor was particularly unfortunate, since usually, Ben and Devi were able to keep their bickering to a minimum during class time since they had all the time in the world after school to argue to their hearts’ content. However, a class discussion on the origins of the Cold War somehow got unnecessarily heated (ironically, Ben thought, _ha ha_ ), and predictably, neither one of them wanted to back down.

“This is all your fault,” Devi grumbled, as they pushed their trolleys of IT equipment into the computer lab, “you _knew_ I was right. It’s so obvious that the US government exaggerated the external danger of Soviet communism in order to achieve internal political objectives.”

“I agree with you on that, but obviously there was shared responsibility. Stalin was an opportunist who exploited any opening to advance Russian national influence!” Ben retorted, as if they hadn’t just had that exact argument just a few hours ago. He flicked on the light switch, ready to continue his argument, when he heard Devi gasp and knock over her trolley at the sight of Elanor and Oliver making out. _Oh Fuck._

Ben sighed internally as Eleanor and Oliver scrambled to explain themselves. Devi obviously wasn’t having any of it, as he predicted. _Why didn’t anyone ever listen to him? Being a visionary was truly a curse._ Not that you even had to be a visionary to predict Devi’s reaction. Now he was definitely going down with the rest of them. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about this!”

Eleanor cringed visibly, “actually… Ben and Fabiola… know…”

“You what?” Devi turned to him, outraged, “and you didn’t tell me?”

“Hey, I _told her_ to tell you, but it’s her thing, right? I can’t go behind her back!” Ben protested. _Curse Eleanor and her terrible choice of make out locations._

“I’m sorry Devi, I just didn’t know how you’d react, with your legs and everything… I didn’t want to upset you,” Eleanor pleaded.

“Upset? I’m not upset. You’re the one who should be upset, with your weird taste in men,” Devi’s voice had taken on a chilling faux-cheery tone. Ben sighed internally as Devi stepped out of the computer lab, the heavy door swinging shut behind her, and screamed hysterically.

“Hate to say I told you so, but… I told you so,” Ben said, after a beat, more out of obligation than genuine smugness.

Eleanor looked guilty. “Do you think we should go after her?”

“Probably best to let her simmer down first,” Ben shrugged. “Besides, if I know her, she’s probably on her way home, to engage in some light property damage.” He opened the door, and the three of them peered outside, where there was no trace to be found of Devi. “Yep, she’s gone.”

“Ugh, I feel terrible,” Eleanor moaned. Oliver patted her comfortingly on the shoulder, which she smiled at.

“You should, for not listening to your intellectual superior,” Ben muttered. “Now she thinks we think she’s just some unhinged crazy person that flies off the rails at the smallest provocation.”

“Well, given her latest reaction – “ Oliver trailed off when Ben glared at him.

“Not the time, Martinez. Anyway, thanks to the two of you, Devi has ditched me, so you guys have to help me finish up with these stupid detention tasks.” Ben was only half-serious, but Eleanor and Oliver didn’t object, which worked out in his favour. He tried not to worry too much about Devi in the meantime, reasoning that any attempt to speak to her now would just result in her biting his head off, especially if she was pissed at him. He figured he would just text her in a few hours, after she had time to calm down, and make sure she was okay. 

In the end, he could only wait exactly three hours before he texted her: “Hey, are you doing ok? Sorry I didn’t tell you about Eleanor. For what its worth, I really did tell her she should tell you.” After some thought, he added a rolling-eye emoji.

Her reply: “All cool. I’m over it”, with a smiley face.

“Devi…”

“Seriously, its fine. I’ve got bigger things going on now. Tell you tomorrow.” Winky face. Suggestive smiley face.

Ben sighed, figuring he wasn’t going to get any more out of her. He switched the topic, provoking another heated conversation about the Cold War, which eventually ended with Devi calling him just so she could yell at him about how wrong he was. It was entertaining, and fun, and most of all, it was _easy._ When they were arguing like this, it was almost easy to forget how much it hurt that she didn’t feel the same way about him, or how much he hated himself for not telling her how he felt. They kept talking until midnight, when her mom came into her room and yelled at her for not sleeping. Ben went to sleep shortly after they hung up, only vaguely wondering what Devi’s news was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has made me think a lot about the Friends-to-Lovers trope, and specifically, the things I dislike about it. I hope to avoid a lot of the pitfalls associated with this trope, starting with the idea that straight men and women can't be friends! This is a Benvi fic, and they do (spoiler alert) get together at the end, but Eleanor and Ben are besties but definitely do not have an romantic interest in each other at all. I loved writing their dynamic - Ben has wanted to strangle Eleanor for the last 5 years but secretly, he's super entertained by her antics and they both know it. There wasn't anywhere near enough Fabiola in this, and I hope to rectify that soon!


	3. Chapter 2

When Ben was little, his parents always tried to soften bad news with accompanying good news. “Well, Ben,” they would say, “I have good news and bad news.” The good news was usually the latest gadget, or tickets to some exclusive concert, or if they were desperate, just a wad of cash. The bad news would be that they wouldn’t be able to make it for his birthday, or that they would be going on another last minute business trip, or that they were going to have to cancel plans again, never mind the fact they had claimed, for the millionth time, that they had cleared their schedule for it.

So, Ben tried to think of this latest development as good news and bad news. Good news – it appeared that Devi was no longer trying to become Jonah Sharpe’s beard. Bad news – she was going to “hang out” with Paxton Hall-Yoshida?

Ben watched as she flounced smugly into class after she dropped that bomb on her friends. “I’m kinda worried,” Fabiola said, sighing. “It’s one thing for her to fly off the handle, but to make up some bullshit story about Paxton? That can’t be a good sign.”

“You guys think she’s making that up?” Ben asked, only allowing himself a tiny bit of hope.

“ _Obviously,_ ” Eleanor rolled her eyes, “You honestly think Paxton Hall-Yoshida said ‘whip-smart’?”

“Not to be unkind or anything, but even if that word _was_ in his vocabulary, I’ve never really thought of intelligence as being one of Paxton’s criteria for dating a woman,” Fabiola added. 

“Well, obviously she fudged some of the details, but I’m not sure she was totally lying, guys. She seemed so happy. I haven’t seen her so pleased, since, well,” Ben gestured vaguely with his hands. _Since her dad died._

“Maybe she’s just totally lost it,” Eleanor sighed, as they headed into class. Fabiola nodded her agreement.

Ben, however, remained unconvinced. He wondered if he was just paranoid, or jealous, or both. He generally could tell when Devi was lying – but then, maybe his feelings for Devi were keeping him from accurately reading the situation? Regardless, he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind, so he figured the best thing to do was to talk to Devi about it. He pulled her aside after class ended, ignoring her half-hearted protests.

“So, what did Paxton _really_ say to you?” Ben demanded, then internally cringed at how possessive he sounded. Thankfully, Devi didn’t seem to notice.

“Look, I already told you what he said!” Devi huffed, pulling her books out of her locker. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to believe that the most attractive guy in the school has actually had a crush on me this entire time, and bravely worked up the nerve to ask me out!”

Ben stared at her. She faltered after a moment, probably realizing how ridiculous her outburst was. “Fine,” she admitted. “I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell Eleanor and Fabiola.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ben felt a little bad, but honestly, this whole thing started with Eleanor and Fabiola trying to keep things from Devi, so he figured that turnabout was fair play.

“So I was really pissed about the whole Eleanor and Oliver thing, broke a window, had a nervous breakdown, the usual,” Devi explained, glossing over the details she knew wouldn’t interest Ben. He nodded along. “I went to talk to my therapist about it, and she told me that in my current state of mind, I probably won’t make a very good girlfriend, and trying to find a boyfriend wasn’t going to make me happy. So she asked me to find something else that I could succeed at this year, that would make me happy.”

“Sounds like solid advice,” Ben admitted, perking up slightly at the idea of Devi not getting a boyfriend, even if that meant he wouldn’t get a chance either.

“So I asked Paxton if he would have sex with me,” Devi said, punctuating her statement by slamming her locker shut. “And he said yes.”

“You what?!”

Devi rolled her eyes calmly, but Ben could see her preening on the inside at shocking him. “Oh, calm down, virgin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Um, it is? How could you actually have thought that your therapist was suggesting that you _have sex with a complete stranger?”_

“I never said she recommended the sex thing, I just said she told me to do something that made me happy,” Devi pointed out, “You must admit, she gave me a pretty wide discretion there.”

“This is actually insane. If she thought it wasn’t a good idea to _date a rando,_ how did you think _having sex with one_ was going to be good for your ‘state of mind’ or whatever?” Ben asked in disbelief. Eleanor and Fabiola may have been off the mark with the Paxton thing, but maybe they were right about Devi losing her mind.

“Paxton is not a rando. We have a bond.”

“Is this the bond that was formed in your fantasy world where he called you _whip-smart?_ ”

“Hey! I already admitted to exaggerating the details, you don’t have to rub it in,” Devi complained, before biting her lip and smiling coyly. “Though Paxton and I did _bond_ in my dream last night, too.”

Ben ignored the absolute blow to his heart that revelation dealt. “This is fucking ridiculous. You know this is not how any of this works, right?”

“Oh really? And I suppose _you’re_ the expert on how this works? You won’t even try _talking_ to Shira because you’re too cowardly to make a move,” she snapped, “You’re just upset I took a gamble and it paid off!”

“I don’t want to talk to Shira because I’m not actually interested in her! And you _know_ I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about your _therapy._ Jesus, do you actually want to get better?”

“I don’t need to get better! I’m completely fine. My grades are amazing, my skin is clear, and I’m going to have sex with Paxton. Stop projecting on me just because you hate your life.”

Ben sighed deeply, trying to draw on some magical reserves of patience he didn’t know he had. “Look, you’re clearly using this Paxton thing as a distraction. Studies show that addiction or addictive behaviors are a form of self-medication for underlying problems that aren’t properly addressed. The American Journal of Psychiatry –“

“First,” Devi cut him off, “don’t fucking quote studies at me. And did you really just cite your sources in conversation?”

“Shut up, you know you live for proving your point with scientifically-backed research,” he argued, slightly annoyed at having been cut off, but unable to resist defending his use of citations, “And a refusal to acknowledge the importance of citing peer-reviewed studies is everything wrong with our democracy.”

“Second,” Devi continued, completely ignoring him, “I’m _not addicted._ I’m not self-medicating anything. Like I said, I’m completely fine. More than fine, considering what I have planned for my future.” She smirked at the thought, and Ben had to resist the urge to bang his head repeatedly against his locker.

“So what’s the plan here? You go to his house, have sex, and never speak again?”

Devi shrugged, “Can’t be too sure about the last part. Maybe it’ll go so well we’ll make it a recurring thing.”

Ben sighed heavily, for what must have been the millionth time that morning. “Devi… I’m just worried about you,” he said finally.

The defiant look in her eyes fizzled out, and for just a flash, Devi looked so vulnerable he couldn’t bear it. She looked away. “Look, Ben… I know what I’m doing. I just really need a win this year.”

The resolve in Ben broke as well. Suddenly, he was reminded of the first time he saw her cry – when they were twelve and some guy she had a crush on told her that her skin was too dark for anyone to ever like her. That was when he realized that the girl who had not hesitated to launch herself at a bully to stand up for her friend could not always stand up for herself. In that moment, he wanted to punch that asshole in the face, but before he could do anything, she grabbed his hand to make him stay with her. She had needed him to stay by her side more than she needed him to fight her battles.

So, Ben just nodded. “Okay.” He turned to his locker as she left, pretending to retrieve something he had forgotten. But habit got the better of him and he watched as she walked away and disappeared into the crowd of students in the hall. 

\---

After school, Eleanor and Fabiola were still convinced that Devi had made the entire Paxton thing up. “I just don’t know why she would lie like that,” Fabiola was saying. “I mean, I knew she would be upset about us keeping things from her, but to _lie_? _”_

Ben was only half-listening, too sullen from the events of the day to really participate. He’d spent all day trying to convince himself to get onboard with Devi’s hare-brained plan, but with little success. At that very moment, because the universe hated him, they heard a familiar voice, “Paxton! I can actually come now. That scheduling conflict I had cleared up.”

“Cool,” they heard Paxton say, “Get in.”

Eleanor and Fabiola gaped as Devi and Paxton drove away. “Holy shit,” Fabiola said, stunned.

“Twist,” Eleanor breathed, before remembering Ben was standing next to her. She spun towards him, and he tried his best not to look utterly miserable. He must have failed, because the next thing he knew, Eleanor had flung her arms around him and was stroking his hair in what he assumed was supposed to be a motherly way. “Oh Ben! This must be so terrible for you. You don’t have to say a word, I understand perfectly!”

“Jeez, Eleanor, you’re suffocating him,” Fabiola sighed, helping entangle Ben from Eleanor’s embrace. Ben coughed his appreciation at her.

“Sorry, Ben. But this is so sad,” Eleanor continued, “I just can’t believe it! Oh god, this is even sadder than my novel!”

“That is true,” Fabiola agreed, “and in her novel, Devi turns out to be a Russian-programmed sentient robot slash weapon of mass destruction, and you die in each other’s arms when she implodes.”

“I thought you said the novel was set in the 1920s.” 

“Fabiola’s talking about the Cold War Alternate Universe spin-off,” Eleanor explained. “The 1920s one had more of a bittersweet ending. You both lost everything you had in the stock market crash, but you had your love for each other, and that was enough.”

“Let me get this straight,” Ben said, his voice strangled, “You wrote fanfiction… of your own fanfiction? About my life?”

“I just really believe you two belong together in every universe,” Eleanor said. “Although, well, this one isn’t looking too good for you,” she added, apologetically. Ben glared at her.

“My favourite spin-off was the one set in the Victorian era. Devi dresses up as a boy to attend medical school,” Fabiola said enthusiastically. Ben briefly contemplated reading Eleanor’s stupid WattPad novels, even if only to understand the hype.

“Mm, yes. The message of female empowerment in an age of institutional sexism was really powerful.”

“We all want to write our own reviews, El. And can we please return to the topic at hand? Devi and Paxton?”

Fabiola and Eleanor both looked at him with a look of such pity that for a moment, Ben suddenly understood why Devi was so obsessed with proving she was normal. “There’s not much to say, Ben, it looks like she and Paxton are, well, hanging out,” Fabiola said, as gently as possible.

“And probably hooking up,” Eleanor pointed out bluntly, “I mean, have you seen the guy? She should jump on him the first chance she gets.” 

“I’m just worried she’s not doing this for the right reasons,” Ben said, and suddenly felt like a contestant on The Bachelor. Internally, he cursed Devi for making him hate-watch so many seasons with her. “She’s not in a good state of mind, guys. She’s obviously still hurting from her dad’s death, and she’s just trying to distract herself with Paxton.”

“That may be true,” Fabiola said slowly, “but I don’t know what we can do about it, Ben. We can’t _force her_ to come to terms with her dad’s death when she’s not ready. All we can do is try and be supportive along the way.”

“Yeah, I definitely don’t want to come across as judgmental too,” Eleanor piped up, “what if she stops telling us these things ‘cos she feels judged? It’s better to go along with it so if something really bad happens, she’ll let us know, and we can be there for her.” 

“I feel like her having sex with some guy that didn’t even know who she was yesterday falls within the realm of ‘pretty bad’,” Ben pointed out, “and what happens after? When he’s done with her? There’s no way this ends well.”

“Then we’ll be there for her what that happens,” Fabiola said. She patted him on the arm sympathetically. “I know it hurts, Ben, but we can’t tell her how to live her life, and we definitely can’t tell her how to get over her father’s death.” 

Ben hated not getting the last word in conversations, but maybe Eleanor and Fabiola were right this time. He wanted what was best for Devi, but he didn’t trust his objectivity on the issue. And frankly, he just felt drained. He wanted to go home, eat an entire pint of ice cream, and sleep for twelve hours. Wow, he dealt with heartbreak like a female lead in a romantic comedy, apparently. That was always good to know.

Eleanor seemed to read his mind, at least partially, and gave him a friendly nudge. “I know what will cheer you up! Let’s go get some ice cream. I’ll treat.” He tried to protest, but both Eleanor and Fabiola had already linked arms with him and were all but dragging him along.

Eleanor brought them to one of her favourite ice-cream joints, which featured all sorts of Asian ice-cream flavours. Ben decided to indulge in a double-scoop of mango mochi and Thai milk tea, since Eleanor was buying, and it had been a pretty awful day for him, all-in-all.

“You know,” Fabiola said, as she dug into her boba-flavoured ice cream, “Why don’t you just tell Devi how you feel anyway? She and Paxton are just hanging out – and even if something were to happen today, they don’t really know each other. Maybe it’ll change things if she knew how you felt.”

Ben scoffed. “I can’t tell her. She’ll _freak._ Things will get weird, I’m not sure the four of us could even hang out together anymore.”

“Maybe,” Eleanor shrugged, as she shamelessly stole a spoonful of Ben’s ice-cream, “or maybe she’ll handle things maturely. Maybe she’ll even realise she has feelings for you. You never know.”

“Either way,” Fabiola said, swatting off Eleanor’s attempt to sample her ice-cream, “You can’t go on like this. Not telling her how you feel but not even trying to move on either. If it was hard when she was single, I can’t even imagine how painful it’ll be for you if she gets together with Paxton.”

“Fabiola’s right,” Eleanor nodded vigorously, finally turning to her own ube ice-cream. “This whole unrequited love thing may make great fodder for my romance novels – and erotica spin-offs – but it’s sad to watch, man. You’re our friend, and we want you to be happy too.”

“This feels like a double-standard. What happened to not being judgmental and being supportive?” Ben grumbled. “Just leave me to die alone.” Eleanor’s melodrama was really rubbing off on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Eleanor patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ben. But maybe it is time to give someone else a chance. You deserve a chance at teen romance too!”

“Wait a minute,” Fabiola said, hitting Ben to get his attention. “Isn’t that Shira Aarons over there?”

“Where!” Eleanor craned her neck, before spotting Shira sitting alone in a corner, taking a photograph of her ice-cream sundae with an expensive-looking DSLR camera. “Dude. It’s a sign! You should totally go talk to her!”

“I’m not going to talk to _Shira Aarons,”_ Ben hissed. “Are you insane?”

“Why not! Paxton gave Devi a chance, maybe she’ll give you the time of the day!” Eleanor was practically bouncing up and down in her chair. “Come on, Ben! If it doesn’t work, treat it as like, practice.”

Before he could reply, all their phones lit up with a text from Devi: “hey, you guys wanna study at my place?”

Ben groaned. “She’s probably gonna wanna spill the details about her and Paxton. I think I’ll pass.”

“Can’t blame you for that. But honestly – just speak to Shira, Ben,” Fabiola urged, with her usual earnestness. “Even if just to distract you from this whole Paxton thing. It doesn’t have to go anywhere.”

“Yeah! And to make you feel more comfortable,” Eleanor emptied the rest of her ice-cream into her mouth, “Fabiola and I will leave. You can go make your moves, make a total fool of yourself, whatever. Just _do something._ ” Before Ben could protest, they somehow gathered their things and dashed off.

Ben didn’t move for awhile after they left. Then he sighed, finished his ice-cream, and walked to Shira Aaron’s table. “Hi Shira,” he said, trying to channel suave and unbothered. “I’m Ben Gross. Uh, from school.” Okay, that didn’t quite go as planned. 

She glanced up at him, before turning back to her photography. “You’re the guy that’s dating the Indian girl in the wheelchair, she said, her voice monotonous.

“I’m – we’re not dating,” he said, his voice unintentionally defensive. “Is that really what people think?”

She shrugged, flicking through her photos on her camera. “I don’t think anyone really thinks about you guys, but sure.”

Ben decided his best tactic would be to change the subject, preferably to something that Shira actually cared about. “So – those photographs for your grid, or something? I heard you have 5000 followers. How did you accomplish that?” 

“Bikini shots,” Shira still didn’t look up at him. He was starting to feel awkward, standing around her table as she basically ignored him. “And I programmed some bots, but mostly, the bikini shots.”

Ben blinked. “Bots? Like – with Python?”

“Yeah,” she said, still bored, “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, that’s impressive,” Ben said, grateful that he actually had something to say to her, “I took a few classes on Codeacademy, but – “

Somehow, that got her attention. She looked up at him, almost curiously. “You’re the first person who didn’t think I was joking when I said that.”

“Um… you’re not, right?”

“I’m not. It’s just that people don’t normally think girls can code. Especially girls that look like me,” she said, gesturing her body without further explanation.

“That’s ridiculous. My friend Fabiola is the captain of the robotics club,” Ben said, almost defensively.

“Oh yeah. I know her. I almost joined as well, except I decided I’d rather be popular.” She looked up at him again, and after some thought, gestured at the seat opposite her. He took it gratefully.

“So, how did you get interested in coding?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“My parents both code. My dad works at Google, and my mom works at Lyft. They taught me when I was young,” she explained.

“And, um – and I don’t mean any offence – how did you get into being an Instagram influencer? Not that you can’t code and be an influencer at the same time.” 

“Being an influencer is the only thing that’s hard to me,” Shira said, as she took another shot of her ice-cream. “School’s way too easy. And coding is fun, but it’s not that difficult, to me anyway. Taking a good photo that makes people stop scrolling and press like? Getting people’s attention when there’s so much out there demanding it? That’s actually a challenge.” Shira finally set down her camera, satisfied with her shot. “Actually, I think I remember more about you. You’re the guy with the famous lawyer dad. The one who’s Beyonce’s lawyer?” 

“Yeah. He’s the Kardashian-Jenner’s lawyer too,” he added, remembering what Devi had told him about Shira.

“That’s so cool. I love the Kardashians. They have amazing business sense,” Shira said appreciatively, her voice for once breaking out of its usual monotone. She paused for a while, before saying, “You know, Trent Harrison’s having a party at his house next week, if you want to come. My friend Zoe can get us in.”

“Sure, that sounds amazing,” Ben said, surprising himself. Because he did want to go to this stupid, popular kids’ party, even if just to see what it would be like.

“Cool. Now tell me more about the Kardashians. I wanna know how Kylie got out of those IP infringement lawsuits.”

\---

To say Ben’s feelings were mixed was an understatement. Talking to Shira had gone well, which he supposed was a good thing, but it was nowhere near big enough a distraction to get his mind off Devi. Because while Shira was interesting, and way more interesting that he had originally given her credit for, talking to her didn’t give him the same excitement that bickering with Devi did. He was started to suspect that nothing ever would. At the same time, it represented the tiniest possibility that there could be a life for him outside of just Devi. He could not decide how he felt about that: how could he weigh the pain of the familiar against the pain of letting go?

He was about to give up on his muddled thoughts and get ready for bed when he suddenly got a text from Eleanor: “Update: she didn’t hook up with P”. He could barely breathe a sigh of relief before the next text came in: “but we may have spent the whole night helping her study how to”.

He groaned aloud and flopped onto his bed. “I hate you,” he texted back.

“Sorry Ben, I’m not letting my girl into the bedchamber with Paxton unprepared,” came Eleanor’s reply.

“Please never say the word bedchamber again.” He added a row of throwing up and nauseous emojis. Eleanor replied with a series of eggplant emojis.

Ben sighed, for what felt like the millionth time that day. Good news – he had taken a chance, as his friends had suggested, and it seemed to have paid off. Bad news – Devi was still going to have sex with Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Yeah, as usual, the good news was completely eclipsed by the bad news, and it all ended with him being alone.

He wanted to talk to his friends, but he already knew what Eleanor and Fabiola would say. And there was no way he could speak to Devi about this, even though she was really the one she wanted to talk to. He always wanted to hear her opinion on things, wanted to watch her roll her eyes or make a sarcastic comment or best of all, offer him her honest advice and just be there for him, like she always had. _God._ He just wanted to _be with her._ He buried his face into his pillow. For the first time in five years, he felt extremely alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was supposed to cover until the end of Episode 2, but it got way too long so I gave up and decided to just post half of it first. 
> 
> Notes, because no one I know in real life watches this show, so you're all going to have to deal with my rambling:  
> 1\. Yes, I totally changed Shira's personality from the show. Entitled, instagram-obsessed teenager? Boring. Secret genius that codes and is an influencer because its the only thing that doesn't bore her? Less so.   
> 2\. My second pet peeve about friends-to-lovers stories: when the person that harbours unrequited love (usually the guy) decides that they know how best to run the other's life because of the sheer force of their love. Of course I tried to balance it with the fact that Devi is, in fact, not making very good life decisions. But it was important to me that Ben let Devi live her life, even if he disagreed with her choices.   
> 3\. I struggled with including so many long friendship-y scenes, because I know many people's preference is for love stories and romance. But I thought NHIE celebrated friendship, and I love the Eleanor-Ben-Fabiola dynamic, so I decided to go with my gut.   
> 4\. Coming up with alternate universe ideas for Eleanor's novels / spin-offs gives me life, guys. Comment with the most ridiculous one you can think of!


	4. Chapter 3

Ben’s plan was to avoid Devi for as long as it took for her to complete Project: Have Sex With Paxton, because while he had committed himself to being supportive of her _truly terrible and horribly unwise_ ideas, he had also decided that there was no need to actually cheer her on. Besides, he had enough self-preservation to know to distance himself when the girl he was in love with was actively trying to have sex with someone else – or so he thought. Unfortunately, he took one look at her fixing her makeup at her locker and his resolve completely disappeared. He should have known; he and Devi had not gone a whole day without speaking to each other since they were eleven.

Devi looked so excited as she applied a fresh coat of lip gloss that he bit back the sarcastic comment about her makeup that immediately came to mind. “Trying to impress Paxton?” he asked instead, trying not to sound too bitter.

She did not notice, of course. “We have a date,” she said, smiling that smug Devi smile where the corners of her lips curl upwards like a satisfied cat. “El and Fab and I spent all evening studying for this. This is one test I’m gonna ace for sure.”

Ben couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “So I heard. Can’t say I’m sorry to have missed that.” He shuddered exaggeratedly, and she laughed.

“Please, you would’ve wet yourself in excitement, you perv,” she teased, eyes gleaming. “Oh wait, I almost forgot,” she rummaged through her locker and produced a box of See’s candies. “Here, my mom got a new order in yesterday, and I stole your favourite.”

It’s a box of almond clusters, the kind that Devi’s mom usually reserves for her work associates, and they were indeed Ben’s favourite. “Thanks,” he said, surprised. “What’s the occasion?”

“You’ve been looking kind of bummed lately, so I thought it’ll cheer you up,” Devi shrugged. “Don’t worry if the stress of sophomore year is getting to you. Not all of us can get stellar grades _and_ maintain a delicious lover on the side.”

“Okay, you have _got_ to cool it with the male objectification.”

“Whatever, you’re just jealous,” she smirked. “I’ve got to go, virgin. Don’t worry, I’ll have enough sex for the both of us.”

She blew past him, almost obnoxiously. Ben was forced to laugh, because really, when the universe goes _that_ out of its way to fuck you over, you had to laugh along.

“How many times could a heart be broken? Being with her, yet without her, was like a thousand paper cuts on a daily basis, but this time – Oh god, I can’t do it!” Eleanor had appeared beside him and had somehow managed to work herself into a frenzy before he could even react to her narration. “It’s such a waste, because I _love_ writing angst, but when it’s the two of you, it just breaks my heart. I can’t even.”

Fabiola was there too, watching as Devi left with a spring in her step. “Damn,” Fabiola mused, as if she did not realise she was speaking aloud, “homegirl’s gonna _get it._ ”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You guys are completely unhelpful,” he complained.

Eleanor patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, you took our advice yesterday with Shira, right? How did that go?”

“It went okay, I guess,” Ben shrugged. “She invited me to some party at Trent Harrison’s. I don’t know, I’m having second thoughts-”

“HOT DAMN!” Eleanor shouted, causing several heads to turn. They went back to their business when they realized it was just Eleanor being Eleanor. “A _party!_ We all know what happens at those,” she sniggered, nudging Fabiola, as they both broke into peals of laughter. “Ben, you have to go!”

“Loud music, bad decisions, opportunities to get an early start on destroying your liver?” Ben asked sarcastically, realizing he sounded like an 80-year-old. This whole Devi-Paxton thing was really getting him in the mood to yell at kids to get off his lawn.

“Jeez, don’t be so bitter, man. Wow, I can’t believe Devi was actually right! Shira Aarons actually went for you! _”_ Eleanor exclaimed, amazed.

“First, I know I should be insulted, but I doubted Devi too, so you’re off the hook for that one. Second, I don’t think Shira is _going for me,_ I think she just, I don’t know, needed a friend. Third, I don’t even know if I’m really interested-”

“Oh please,” Fabiola snapped, uncharacteristically impatient. Ben and Eleanor stared at her, but she was not done. “It took you like five years to go from hating Devi’s guts to basically wanting to drag her down the aisle, so maybe it’ll take you more than one conversation to figure out if you and Shira could go anywhere.”

Eleanor blinked, still startled at Fabiola’s outburst. Fabiola, seeming to finally realise what she had just said, looked embarrassed. “I mean,” Fabiola started again, softening her tone, “It wouldn’t hurt to just _explore something_.”

“I think what Fabiola is trying to say is, you and Devi don’t owe each other anything,” Eleanor explained, slightly surprised at having to be the rational one in the conversation for once. “There’s nothing wrong with just trying to make new connections. And hey, if it makes you realise that Devi was it for you this entire time, that’s helpful info too!”

“What she said,” Fabiola agreed, before adding sheepishly, “Sorry for getting mad.”

Eleanor nodded emphatically. “Come on, Ben. I know I always say you and Devi are my OTP, but do you know what my real OTP is?” she asked rhetorically, and Ben knew better than to answer. “It’s Ben _and happiness._ ”

Ben laughed. “Thanks guys. This – did actually kind of help a little.”

Eleanor bounced on the spot. “So you’ll go the party?”

“Yeah, I will,” Ben said, begrudgingly.

“And will you introduce me to Shira? Because I’ve really been thinking of working a love square into my next novel, given recent developments, and I really want to get her personality right. If she were in World War II, do you think she’d be a German honey-trap? Or more like a fighter pilot –“ 

“Not a chance in Hell, Eleanor.” 

\---

The next morning, in Ben’s side chat with Eleanor and Fabiola –

Eleanor: “THEY DID IT. IM A PROUD MAMA”

Fabiola: “yeAH you can totally tell she seems completely different!!”

Ben: “sigh”

Fabiola: “sorry ben :(“

\---

Ben had done a pretty good job of avoiding Devi for most of that day, but during AP History he found it impossible not to sneak glances at her (to be fair, this was already something he struggled with on a daily basis). At first, it was because Fabiola had said Devi seemed _completely different,_ and his curiosity got the better of him. However, it soon became clear that something was off. Fabiola and Eleanor had made it seem like Devi would be radiant with joy from her, well, extra-curricular activities. But she was obviously distracted, and not in a _“just had mind-blowing sex_ _and can’t stop thinking about it”_ way. She just seemed… sad.

“Devi? I asked you a question.” Mr Shapiro said, looking at Devi expectantly. Devi blinked, as if finally remembering where she was. “Name seven groups the Nazis wanted to exterminate.”

“Oh, um. The Jews, the disabled, freemasons, bench Republicans, the queer community, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and, um… Uh…” Devi’s eyes flickered over to him. _Romani,_ he mouthed at her. “The Romani people.”

“That’s right. Good job, Devi.”

Devi smiled gratefully at Ben, and he did his best to return it. After class, she approached him at his locker. “Thanks for the save earlier,” she said, grateful, twisting her hands nervously.

“It’s cool. I know how hard it is to memorise seven facts,” he joked, although his heart wasn’t in it. Devi laughed as well, but did not make a snarky comment back. He glanced at her, worry rising in him. “I take it the date didn’t go well?” he asked lightly. Eleanor and Fabiola had said that Devi and Paxton had had sex, but what if that was the issue? What if she hadn’t been as ready as she thought, or something happened that she wasn’t comfortable with, or –

“No,” she said, hands still twisting. She sighed, “We didn’t do it, okay?”

 _Oh, thank God._ Maybe the universe did not hate him after all. Ben briefly contemplated being more religious, or at least increasing his charitable donations, before confusion set in again. “But Eleanor and Fabiola said – “

“I know, I know. They assumed, and I didn’t want to correct them. I just – I didn’t want them to feel sorry for me anymore,” Devi confessed.

“That – That’s kind of messed up, Devi,” Ben said carefully. He could understand not wanting to be pitied, but there was no way this wasn’t going to backfire. “I mean, imagine if some guy told everyone he had sex with you. It’s not great if you _did_ have sex, but if you didn’t…”

Devi groaned, and he knew she agreed with him. “I know, but it’s just Eleanor and Fabiola. They’re not going to tell anyone!”

“Did you tell them not to?”

“Well, no, but it won’t matter anyway, because I _will_ have sex with Paxton, then it’ll become the truth!”

“Ah, the pre-truth,” Ben intoned, “that’s something that would hold up in Court.”

Devi huffed, crossing her arms. “I knew you would be judgey about this.”

“Can you blame me? If _I_ pulled that shit, you’d murder me. You’d give me a long, feminist rant, and then you’d murder me. And you and the girl I lied about would cut my body into pieces and feed it to the wolves. And then you’d domesticate the wolves and train them to hunt other guys that lied about having sex with girls,” Devi’s face fell, and Ben instantly felt guilty. He tried to soften his tone. “Come on, Devi. What happens if Paxton finds out about this? I thought you liked the guy.”

“He’s not talking to me,” she said softly. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

She looked so beautiful, with her eyebrows knit together in worry, her hair unruly from her anxiously running her hands through it. “What happened?” he asked, mustering up the energy to be the friend she needed. Eleanor was right, this really was like a thousand paper cuts. 

Devi sighed, and gestured for him to walk with her. “I went to the washroom to, y’know, freshen up. His sister, she uh, heard me in there, I guess. She knocked on the door and I didn’t think there was anything wrong with talking to her, so we started chatting. When Paxton found us, he got super mad and told me to leave,” Devi explained. “His sister has Down syndrome. But I wasn’t being rude to her or anything. We were actually really getting along before he came around.”

“I didn’t know Paxton had a sister.”

“That’s what I said! I just don’t know what I should’ve done. I couldn’t have ignored her, could I?”

“I don’t think you did anything wrong, Devi,” Ben replied, scratching his head, “Maybe Paxton just has his own hang-ups about his sister you don’t know about.”

“Maybe,” Devi said, chewing on her lower lip, “I tried talking to him to explain, but he wouldn’t even look at me.”

Never mind paper cuts, Ben was beginning to think that giving romantic advice to Devi was like having his fingernails pulled out one by one. “All couples have their ups and downs. You just have to make it work. Anyway, maybe Paxton just needs time to process what happened, or he’s embarrassed he over-reacted or something.” That was probably the most generic, unhelpful advice he could have given, but Devi seemed to appreciate it.

“Thanks, Ben,” Devi said. He loved it when she looked at him like that, her gaze soft and without trace of her usual sharp edges. “By the way, do you want to come for dinner tonight? My mom’s like, super mad at me, and it’ll probably help if you’re around. You know you’re her favourite.”

“I’m most people’s favourite,” Ben said smugly, “Especially when the other option is, you know, you.” Devi made a face. “What did you do this time?”

“I… maaaay have called her a bitch?”

Ben let out a low whistle. “Damn, Vishwakumar. You’re brave.”

“I know! So please come over? We can study together afterwards.”

“Fine,” Ben sighed melodramatically, pretending like it was a hard decision to make.

\---

After dinner – taco night, which was amazing, save for Kamala’s sudden, inexplicable outbursts – Devi and Ben sat on the floor of her bedroom, attempting to work through their Geometry assignment. They usually studied in silence, unless one of them wanted to gloat about solving a particularly hard problem (often), ask the other for help (rare), or got distracted by some celebrity gossip and just _had_ to share it (mostly Devi).

“So, I took your advice. I talked to Shira,” Ben said, almost impulsively, after they had worked in silence for a few moments. In truth, he had wanted to speak to Devi about Shira since right after their first conversation, but had held back, for some reason. He wasn’t trying to make Devi jealous – he doubted she would be, anyway – he just wanted to talk to her about it, the way they talked about everything.

Devi looked up, blinking as she processed the news. “Oh,” she said, finally. There was something muted about her reaction – it was a far cry from her excitement over Fabiola and Alex Gomez for sure. Ben briefly wondered if that was a good thing. “That’s great, Ben. Are you guys… going out?”

“Not really. She invited me to this party next week, but nothing other than that. We’ve been texting, though,” Ben said, running a hand through his hair, almost nervously. “She developed this new app and wanted to know if I thought it could be monetized.”

Devi scrunched up her nose. “Shira _codes?_ ”

“Yeah. She’s pretty good at it apparently. It’s this app that swipes with potential matches on Tinder for you based on pre-set parameters or something like that. It can even converse with your matches to filter out weirdos. It _sounds_ pretty impressive, but all I can code is a ball bouncing around a square, so.” He paused, waiting for her to jump on the opportunity to make fun of his lackluster coding abilities, or mock Shira’s app, or just say something disparaging in general.

But she didn’t. Instead, she just looked him straight in the eyes, and asked, “Do you like her?” His breath suddenly caught in his throat, and he found himself at a loss for words.

“I – “

“Devi? There’s a boy here to see you,” Devi’s mom interrupted, in the same way one might announce an axe-murderer being on the loose. 

Devi blinked, confused. “But Ben’s right here.”

“I _know_ ,” Devi’s mom said, her voice incredulous. “It’s a different boy.”

Ben figured it out a split second before Devi did. She perked up and dashed down the stairs.

“Do you know what this is about?” Devi’s mom demanded of Ben. Before he could reply, she took off after Devi. Ben sighed and followed the two of them downstairs. By then, Devi had caught on to her mother’s attempts to eavesdrop and had shut the door behind her. “This is ridiculous,” Devi’s mom ranted, as she watched them from behind the curtains. “First, she calls me a bitch, and next, there’s boys showing up at the house for her? He doesn’t even look like he goes to high school. Do you know him, Ben?” She waved him over.

Ben peered out the window. Yep, it was Paxton alright. “Yeah. He’s a year older than us, but he’s in our AP History class. He and Devi are… friends.”

“Friends,” Devi’s mom scoffed. “That boy looks like he’s up to no good for sure. Doesn’t he look like he’s 30, or something? I thought I had enough in my life to worry about without actual paedophiles coming to my home.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s 16, Mrs. Vishwakumar,” Ben reassured her, refraining from informing her that it was in fact Devi that had instigated the being up to no good. Outside, Devi laughed at something Paxton had said. “NO LAUGHING!” her mom barked at them.

Ben nearly snickered despite himself, although watching Paxton smile at Devi sobered him up immediately. Up until now, he had never _really_ thought about what Paxton was like as a person – other than being the sort of guy who had no issues sleeping with random girls that propositioned him, that is. But now, Paxton seemed nice, almost earnest _._ He watched as Devi and Paxton parted ways, Paxton turning around to take another look at Devi’s retreating form. _He cares about her_ , Ben realized miserably. 

“What was that about?” Devi’s mom demanded the moment Devi opened the door. Devi rolled her eyes.

“Nothing, mom. He just wanted to uh, clarify something from our History class.”

“He came all the way here for that? Does this boy not have a phone?” Devi’s mom interrogated. 

“It’s really something that had to be explained in person. Come on, Ben,” Devi ran up the stairs before her mom could protest any further.

“So, what happened?” he asked casually, once they were back in Devi’s room.

“He apologized, so that’s good, I guess,” Devi said almost breathlessly, like that simple encounter with Paxton had swept her off her feet. “But he also seemed to call off the sex thing? So, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t seem too bummed about that.” If anything, she seemed flush with excitement.

“I should be, but… This was the first time he really seemed to open up, y’know? Maybe…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “It’s probably nothing. Let’s get back to work.”

Ben nodded wordlessly. He tried to work on his geometry homework but found himself unable to concentrate. He wanted to push Devi for more details, but at the same time, knew he could not bear to hear the answers. Somehow, up until today, he had fully bought into the idea that Paxton and Devi were going to be a one-time thing, even when Eleanor and Fabiola had warned him about the possibility of Paxton and Devi dating. Now, seeing how Paxton’s gaze had lingered on Devi when she wasn’t even looking at him, Ben knew this was a distinct possibility. He glanced over at her, watched as she frowned over her calculations. He wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear, kiss the worry from her brow, hold her hand. Something. _Anything._

People who did not know him generally assumed he and Devi were exactly the same: that they were both short-tempered hot heads that flew off the handle at a second’s notice. It was easy to make such an assumption, he supposed, given how often they were witnessed yelling at each other. But in truth, Devi was the only one who brought out that side of him. Ben was nothing if not patient. He was used to waiting – for a mother to notice him, or a father to remember he was there. And he had planned to wait for Devi, until the waves bored themselves to sleep if he had to, but he knew now that was the most ill-conceived plan he could have had. What had waiting and all the patience in the world ever brought him? Certainly not the attention of his parents, which he had eventually grown accustomed to living without. And how would Devi ever know about his feelings, if all he ever did was wait? 

He contemplated telling her now, imagined finally being free of all that weight. But he as looked at her, the words dried up in his throat. He wished it were as simple as not being brave enough. Because he _could_ tell her. He had simply chosen not to. Because as much as there was the possibility that Devi found someone else, built her life around a whole new person, that did not frighten him enough as much as the possibility of just losing her, and losing the life he had because of her. Devi was more than just a best friend to him. She had given him a family, and shared with him her best friends, and he knew that if he lost Devi, he would lose all of that. There would certainly be no more dinners at the Vishwakumar household – he would go back to eating alone. And he did not doubt that Eleanor and Fabiola would choose Devi over him. After all, she was friends with them first.

It’s unfair, he thought, how addictive it was to matter to someone. He had spent so many years feeling not so much unloved as simply _unnecessary_ that the feeling of just mattering had been revolutionary at first. But now he was accustomed to it, so accustomed that there was no way he could go back to a life without friends and family. To a life of saying things and not having them matter to anyone. Ben wondered if this would be an easy decision if he and Devi had never become friends, if there were not years of history threatening to crumble if one did not tread carefully. In that world, would he be able to just lean over and try to kiss her, consequences be damned? For once, he yearned for a universe where there was even the slightest possibility of him returning to his life unscathed if Devi were to slip right out of it.

But this wasn’t that world, and Devi was his best friend. All he could do is wait. After all, he has had years of practice waiting, and Devi, Devi has had years of practice not noticing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More rambling, because I love having a captive audience:   
> 1\. Thanks so much for all your comments guys! I really do read every one (multiple times, actually), and they go a long way to cheering up a sad junior lawyer who spends her lunch breaks writing this fic, haha.   
> 2\. It always bothered me that Devi didn't get more flack in the show for lying about having sex with Paxton (even if by omission), so I had to flag it out here. I definitely share Ben's sentiments that if she had been a guy, people would've made a much bigger deal about it.   
> 3\. I can't code at all, guys. I don't know anything about coding or if Shira's app would even work... My apologies to any coders out there who found it ridiculous.   
> 4\. Patience to me is a very interesting trait for a teenage boy, since it's not commonly associated with either men or teenagers, so I was quite excited to explore it in Ben. From his episode, and the way he dealt with getting blown off by Shira and his dad, he really does seem like a very patient person, even if that's probably not one of the words you'd first use to describe him.   
> 4\. There are some small references in this chapter to the poem Patagonia by Kate Clanchy (one of my all time favourites), and the song You Matter To Me from Waitress. While I'm at it, I realise I never mentioned that the title comes from the poem The More Loving One by W. H. Auden (the full line being, "if equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me").   
> 5\. While we're giving credit, I also listened to a ton of sad Mandarin music to get into the headspace to write this chapter, man. I don't know if anyone here shares my love of Jay Chou, but damn, the man can write a tragic love song.


	5. Chapter 4

Ben never had particularly high expectations for how his weekend hangouts with Devi, Eleanor and Fabiola would go – normally they just talked and binged on snacks, or watched some Netflix – but he certainly had not anticipated being an unwilling audience to the most transparent thirst trap in history. Devi had persuaded Eleanor and Fabiola to go along with filming a Tik Tok dance video (and had even procured multiple costumes for the occasion) and was completely unphased by Ben’s complaints about not being informed about the plan beforehand.

“Just like, watch and let us know if you have any notes for us,” Devi had informed him flippantly, after she had given Oliver strict instructions on how the video should be filmed.

“Oh please, like you’ve ever listened to anything I’ve had to say,” Ben grumbled. Devi pretended not to hear him.

So that was how Ben ended up doing yoga with Kamala in the Vishwakumars’ front lawn. He had picked up some yoga from his mother (who had completed her 200-hour Yoga Teacher Training a few years ago), and while he didn’t practice it often, he generally found it helped him to relax. No such luck today, he thought, transitioning from Warrior I to Reverse Warrior as he grumpily watched his friends film their video through the corner of his eye.

“Clear your mind of all your worries,” Kamala urged soothingly, nearly causing Ben to lose his balance. How did she know he was distracted? Was there some weird Yoga mind-meld thing he didn’t know about? Feeling duly chastised, he attempted to _clear his mind,_ but found that this was easier said than done when the girl he was hopelessly in love with was a few meters away, filming a thirst trap for the benefit of another guy. He sighed as quietly as possible and wondered if it was too early in his life for him to start listening to meditation podcasts.

One hour and a very relaxing _shavasana_ later, Ben felt more at peace with the world. Of course, there was the fact that by the time his friends had finally finished shooting the video, Devi’s mom only gave them three minutes to chat before Devi had to weed her dad’s garden, but he wasn’t letting _that_ ruin his post-yoga high. Listening to Devi attempt to reassure Eleanor and Fabiola that she and Paxton had any semblance of a relationship, however, was quickly bringing him down. For some reason, Devi still hadn’t told Eleanor and Fabiola that she and Paxton had never slept together, let alone the fact that they weren’t dating at all. This charade annoyed Ben more than he liked to admit, even though technically, it was none of his business.

“Oh, believe me, he’s ashamed,” Fabiola was saying, jolting Ben from his thoughts. “That’s why I hate all men.”

“Hey!” Ben protested automatically. He was used to jibes like these – they were not uncommon when he spent all his time hanging out with three girls – but he always felt a need to protest when they happened anyway. 

“Not you, obviously,” Fabiola qualified dismissively, “You don’t count.”

“Not sure if that’s better, but thanks?”

“What about you, Ben? Are you and Shira official yet?” Eleanor chirped, bouncing where she sat. “You guys talk every day, right? What are you waiting for?”

“You and Shira talk every day?” Devi asked, almost judgmentally. Ben felt an involuntary stab of guilt. He hadn’t told Devi much about him and Shira, mostly because the last time he had brought it up, things had gotten weird. Well, weird probably wasn’t the best way to describe it, but it was the only word he could think of. He’d replayed that moment again a million times in his head – the barely thirty seconds of conversation they’d had before Devi’s mom had come in, and Devi had gotten completely distracted by Paxton – and still hadn’t figured out how he felt about it, or what it meant. There was something about the way Devi reacted that unsettled him, so he did the only logical thing – avoid any conversation that would put them back in the same situation.

“We don’t _talk_ every day. We text every day. And it’s mostly about stuff like um, her coding projects, and strategies for getting Instagram sponsorships and stuff,” he said, aware he was rambling but unable to stop. “So yeah, its not like we’re discussing intensely personal stuff –“

“Ugh, I keep forgetting that Shira is like, actually really smart. It’s so unfair! How can someone be _that_ hot and smart at the same time?” Eleanor complained. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Devi make a face.

“Your three minutes are up!” Devi’s mom hollered from inside. Eleanor and Fabiola obediently got up to leave.

“I’ll stay and help with the garden,” Ben offered.

“You sure?” Devi asked, although she was already walking towards the shed where the tools were kept. “I thought you had servants for that sort of thing, bougie boy.”

“It’s always fun to know how the other half lives.” Ben was used to making up lame excuses for spending more time with Devi by now.

“You’re a regular Marie Antoinette, aren’t you,” Devi laughed, before coughing slightly as she dragged the rusty shed door opened. “Ugh, its so dusty in here.”

Ben peered into the shed, which had always been fairly dingy, but now seemed to have been colonized by spiders. “Yeah, I’ll just wait out here,” he said, deciding now was not the time for heroics. After all, he had left his inhaler at home. 

“So, you never told me you and Shira talked every day,” Devi said, as she searched the shed.

“Texted,” Ben corrected, grateful that they weren’t talking face to face. That same, unsettling feeling from a few nights ago was rising rapidly in him again.

“Whatever,” Devi rolled her eyes, as she emerged from the shed, toolbox in hand.

“Like I told Eleanor, it’s nothing serious. We’re just friends,” Ben said lamely, eager for this conversation to end.

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me these things because Paxton and I are –“ Devi stopped short suddenly, her lips slightly parted. Ben followed her gaze, and instantly felt his insides chill. She was staring at her dad’s vegetable garden.

“Devi?” he said softly. “We don’t have to do this today, you know. We can tell your mom it’s too hot and we’ll get heat stroke or something.” Devi didn’t reply, which was unusual for her. Her eyes seemed slightly glazed over, like she was a million miles away. He touched her shoulder gently. “I’m sorry Devi, I know this is hard – “

She jerked away from him abruptly. “You don’t know anything!” she snapped. “Just because you came over whenever your parents ditched you doesn’t mean that you know what it’s like to lose your dad! At least your dad’s still alive.” She dropped the toolbox into the grass and spun around, running back into her house.

Ben stared at her as she left, open-mouthed. He looked back at the garden. Devi’s mom was right, it really was overrun with weeds. The tomato plants, once resplendent, were now wilted and pitiful. He sighed loudly, even though no one could hear him, and picked up the toolbox. Squatting in front of the vegetable garden, he decided to Google what to do next. Carefully, he weeded the garden by hand, before slowly pruning the tomato plants. It was an almost meditative task, and he found himself momentarily losing track of all his Devi-related problems. Finally, he watered the plants, before fertilizing the soil.

The tomato patch did look much better after he was done, even if not yet returned to its former glory. Ben stood up and dusted his hands off. He took a step back to admire his handiwork, but accidentally collided into Devi.

“You stayed,” she said, her expression unreadable.

“Yeah,” _I wanted to make sure you were alright,_ he wanted to say, but somehow couldn’t. “I uh, wanted to reconnect with nature through gardening. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said quietly, not meeting his gaze. She drew a line in the dirt with her shoe. “I’m sorry. What I said was uncalled for,” she started, but couldn’t continue, because somehow, without his mind realizing, Ben’s body had acted of its own accord and pulled her into a hug. She froze for a moment, startled, but quickly returned the embrace, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Something about not being able to see Devi’s face gave him courage, so he spoke into her hair, knowing he would never be able to say the same things to her under any other circumstance. “I know you’re not fine. I know you miss him, and I know you haven’t been able to play the harp since, and I know it all feels overwhelming and impossible to deal with and you just want to pretend that you’ve got everything under control. And that’s okay. I’m always, always here for you. Okay?”

Silently, she nodded into the hug.

“Just promise me one thing?”

Another nod.

“Promise me you’ll keep going to therapy and trying to work through this. Even if it takes time and you don’t see the point of it. Okay?”

She nodded again, albeit more slowly this time. “Okay, Ben.”

As if a spell had been lifted, he let go of her, slightly embarrassed. “I should go now,” he said awkwardly. “It’s late, and all. See you in school tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Devi sounded subdued. “See you at school.”

Ben hightailed it out of there as quickly as one could without actually running.

\---

Ben had been slightly worried that his speech to Devi in the garden was going to make things awkward, but Devi breezily greeted him at school the next day as if nothing had even happened. That made him strangely sullen, even though he had no idea why he had expected anything different. Maybe he had hoped things had shifted between them, after he had all but poured his heart out to her, but he knew that was dishonest. He hadn’t told her everything. Not the most important thing.

His moroseness only increased when Paxton suddenly asked Devi to be part of his history project group. He remembered how excited Devi had been when Paxton came over to her house and opened up to her, whatever that meant. This was an opportunity for them to spend even more time outside of school, and when Paxton saw how smart and capable Devi was, he was probably going to develop feelings for her. Then they were going to get married and have babies that were gorgeous _and_ intelligent, and Ben would be left all alone. He briefly considered adopting cats.

He was so distracted that during his history project discussion with Eleanor, Fabiola and Eve, he made some lame suggestion about an app that was like Uber for Jewish people trying to escape the Holocaust. Eleanor explained to him, as gently as she could, why that was a terrible idea. This perceived academic failure, despite being minor and totally devoid of consequences, soured his mood further.

The next day, Devi ran up to him, more enthusiastic than he had seen her in weeks. “I talked to my dad yesterday,” she said breathlessly.

“You talked to your dad?” Ben had not expected this. “Like what, through prayer?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. He came to me as a coyote.”

Ben opened his mouth to respond, before closing it again. “Okay, I know reincarnation is a big thing in Hinduism, so I don’t want to sound judgmental or anything, but… a coyote? Seriously?”

Devi sighed loudly, as if his reaction was unreasonable. “There was a coyote in my backyard last night, and I just _knew,_ Ben. It was my dad. He was in my dad’s garden, he picked up my dad’s tennis ball, and there was just something about his eyes…”

“Um,” Ben said, processing. “Have you spoken to your therapist about this?”

Devi scowled. “I knew it. You think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t, I just think that maybe this could be a way of you, you know, processing your grief, and it could be good to get a therapist’s input?” _Also, you promised,_ he wanted to say, but he was starting to feel like he had imagined their entire conversation in the garden.

“You’re such a drag, Ben,” Devi complained. “Speaking of which, I heard from Eleanor you’re going to the party at Trent Harrison’s tomorrow? With Shira?”

“I am, why?”

“I’m going too!” she bounced excitedly on the spot. Ah, that was the reason for her good mood. Getting to spend more time with Paxton in a fun, non-school environment. “Can you believe us? Going to parties with the popular kids.”

“’Sup, Lil D,” Trent Harrison interjected, before Ben could reply. “I came up with a new idea for our project logo.”

“Really? What?” Devi gave Ben an apologetic look, before following Trent into class.

“Well it’s really the same, except the ‘b’ is kinda lying down.”

Ben walked into class behind them. This party had better be fucking amazing, because he was not having a good week.

\---

Ben found himself dragging his feet the evening of the party. He briefly considered calling Shira and telling her he wasn’t feeling well, but literally the second the thought occurred to him, Eleanor called him and delivered a pretty impressive monologue on how _he had promised he was_ _going to_ _put himself out there_ and how he _deserved a true high school experience_ and that _high school parties are really fun, do you want to go to college without even attending a high school party? That’s like applying for a job at a law firm without an internship!_ He had to admit, it was the internship metaphor that eventually got to him.

Shira had asked Ben to meet him at Trent’s house at around 9, but when he arrived, he spotted Shira in the corner talking to some of her field hockey friends. He didn’t feel like interrupting, so he grabbed a beer off the kitchen counter and wandered around Trent’s house, attempting to make conversation with the few people he recognized. Everyone seemed pretty buzzed, which seemed to make them a little friendlier than at school – save for the guy who was _obviously_ high from shrooms, he looked possessed.

After a while, Ben found himself back in Trent’s living room. The party was rowdier now – more people had arrived, and the people that were already there had progressed from buzzed to straight-up drunk _._ He thought he saw someone throw up in a flower pot, which made him nauseous. He sighed. Why was there no damn food at this party? He wished Trent had thought to buy some pizza.

“Ben!” he looked up to see Devi walking towards him. “I can’t believe you’re really here. These people are _way_ cooler than you are.”

“Speak for yourself,” he scoffed. “What lie did you have to tell your mom to come here?”

“Lying to your parents and sneaking out is cool.”

“Not if you have an 8pm curfew, David.”

“Normally I’d whip your ass, but I’m at my first party, so I’m not gonna let you ruin my mood,” she took a sip from her beer, before shuddering. “Alcohol is pretty gross though. Why do people drink this again?”

“Because it’s cool to have taste buds that are acclimatized to enjoying bitter, fermented drinks, apparently,” Ben shrugged. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed his beer either. “So, you having fun?”

“Well, I had a pretty good conversation with Paxton, so…” Before she could finish her sentence, Ben’s gaze involuntarily flickered to the doorway, where Paxton was talking to Zoe. Well, flirting was definitely the more accurate word, they were basically all over each other. Before he could warn her, Devi turned to see what he was looking at, and Ben saw her clench her jaw at the sight.

Ben sighed. “Devi…”

“It’s fine,” she said, through gritted teeth, before downing her entire drink in one breath.

“Devi, you really should slow down.”

“Shut up, Ben,” she growled, stumbling away from him. Ben moved to follow her, but Shira suddenly appeared, blocking his way.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Have you gotten a drink yet?”

“Um. Yeah,” he said, lifting his beer.

“That’s lame. Come on, I’ll mix you something good,” Shira said dismissively, considering the options before her. She had barely settled on making him a Long Island Iced Tea when they heard a scream coming from outside. “Well,” Shira said, pulling her DSLR camera from her bag, “I guess we should go check that out.” But Ben was already running for the door, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“A coyote just ate Devi! That was straight-up Red Riding Hood man! Are you dead?” Someone, probably Trent, was yelling in the background. Ben could barely hear any of it as he pushed through the crowd – all he could see was Devi, unmoving, and _so much blood,_ and suddenly, the memory of Devi’s mom screaming and the screech of flashing sirens came back to him and rooted him to the ground. He knew he should go to Devi, help her up, call an ambulance, just _do something_ – but in that instant, his legs felt as heavy as lead.

Just then, someone pushed past him and ran to Devi. “Just hold on to me. I got you,” he heard Paxton say. 

Ben let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It was stupidly simple. All Ben had needed to do was _help his damn friend,_ but somehow, he had lost the ability to move and now Paxton had beat him to it. Ben followed the rest of the kids back into the house numbly, berating himself the entire way. Of course Devi would do something stupid like try and talk to a fucking wild coyote, she’d _told him_ that she believed it was her dead father. And why the hell had he frozen up like that? Now she was injured, and Paxton was not just the guy who literally made her walk again, he was also the guy who saved her from a wild animal. Who the hell said high school parties were supposed to be fun? Oh right, it was Eleanor. He was going to have words with her about this.

Shira nudged him, jolting him from his self-loathing, and showed him a photo on her DSLR. It was a picture of Devi, lying in the grass with a massive bite wound in her shoulder. The photograph was actually remarkably well-composed, and he told her so, even though his worry was rapidly intensifying. He wondered if wild coyotes spread rabies. It hadn’t _looked_ rabid, but he certainly wasn’t a veterinary expert. “You gonna post that on your Insta?” he asked Shira, more out of a desire to distract himself than anything. Well, if Devi wasn’t dead after today, she was definitely going to be popular, though maybe not quite for the reasons she had hoped.

“Nah. It doesn’t fit with my vintage, rustic colour scheme, and it’s _definitely_ much too edgy,” Shira said decisively. “I’ll just use it to try and reach a wider audience.” She looked around the room, before calling out to Trent and gesturing for him to come over. He did so cheerfully and let out a whoop when she showed him the photograph.

“Dude, that photo’s dope! She looks like she’s dead!” Trent crowed, showing a little too much enthusiasm at the prospect of his classmate being mauled to death by a wild animal. Ben hoped this was attributable to Trent being buzzed from the alcohol and not any defect in personality.

“Will you post it to your Insta? Remember to credit me,” Shira asked, flicking through the controls on her camera so she could Bluetooth the photo to Trent.

“Damn right I’ll post it! It’s gonna go _viral._ ” Trent set down his beer for what was probably the first time that night and started typing his caption. “RIP Devi, hashtag coyote girl, hashtag that was wild, hashtag YOLO.”

Eddie Tan glanced at the photo over Trent’s shoulder. “Dude, I’d post that too. It looks insane!”

“Man, Devi is so brave,” Zoe sighed, her voice breathy with admiration, as she typed furiously – probably re-posting the photo as well. “I’ve always felt such an _attachment_ to wild animals, but to talk to one like that? She’s _such_ a goddess. I really hope she lives.” 

“Whatever guys. Just credit me,” Shira rolled her eyes and finished her drink. “Ben and I are going to another party. Later, guys,” she said, mostly to Zoe, before gesturing at Ben to follow her. Zoe pouted but didn’t protest as Shira left, and quickly turned her attention to Eddie, who was now tossing mini Oreos in the air and catching them with his mouth.

Neither having it in him to protest nor desiring to stay, Ben followed Shira outside, mumbling apologies as he attempted to squeeze through the ever-growing crowd of teenagers. Shira, somehow, managed to dodge everyone without even looking up from her phone. “So uh, what party are we going to?” he asked once they had managed to escape.

Shira rolled her eyes. “There is no other party. I’m going home to change into my sweats and code. Wanna share an Uber?”

“Oh. Sure,” Ben said, feeling a rush of relief at not being subject to yet _more_ loud music and sweaty teenagers. He was starting to have a feeling that he was not going to enjoy having a wild college life as much previously thought. “Why didn’t you just tell them the truth?”

“Please. If I told them I was going to code, they’d probably assume Code was the name of the club I was going to or whatever. Might as well just give the people what they want,” Shira said dismissively. “Anyway, Uber’s reaching in five.”

They sat down on the curb as they waited for their Uber to arrive, the music from the party still blaring behind them. Ben tried not to think too much about how Devi was doing, whether she was going to get rabies from the coyote bite, what her mom would say about all this, and most of all, whether she and Paxton were currently having hospital sex like on Grey’s Anatomy. It was a few moments before Shira said, matter-of-factly, “So, you’re in love with Devi.”

Ben blinked, and briefly contemplated denying it. After all, they were at a party _together,_ and he was under strict instructions from his friends to “explore a connection” with Shira – something which was unlikely to happen if she knew he was in love with someone else. But Shira was not asking a question – she was just making a statement. “That obvious, huh,” he said wryly.

Shira shrugged. “You looked utterly crushed when Paxton swept in and saved the day. I figured.”

“I guess Devi is the only one who doesn’t know, then,” Ben laughed, attempting to keep the tone light.

“Can I ask you something?” She suddenly sounded uncertain, and decidedly unlike the confident, constantly bored Shira he had come to know. “How did you know you liked her?”

“I… I just knew, I guess. She stood up to some bully for me, even though he was like, twice her size,” Ben confessed, rubbing the back of his neck, “That was the first time I felt someone was on my side. We were just eleven then. I’d never felt anything like it. To be honest, I still haven’t.” 

“You didn’t think you maybe just liked how it felt? To have someone stand up for you?” she asked, looking at him. This time, curiosity laced her voice.

“I thought so, at first. I was pretty used to looking out for myself. But it became more than that. Now I want to talk to her about everything, and I always want to hang out with her. Sometimes it’s like she’s in my head, if that makes sense. I’ll see something, and the first thing I think of is how she would react to it.”

“Hmm,” Shira sounded skeptical. After a long while, she spoke again, so softly this time he almost didn’t hear her, “What does it feel like?”

“Hmm?”

“What does it feel like? Being in love?”

“Um… Well, it sucks, honestly,” Ben said slowly, feeling slightly put on the spot. While he always considered himself to be eloquent, he never liked waxing lyrical about his feelings for Devi. It always seemed impossible to put his feelings into words, and when he tried, everything felt ridiculous, like one of Eleanor’s melodramatic narrations. _When she smiles at me, it feels like my veins are filled with liquid light._ Not because they weren’t true, but because the intensity of his feelings sometimes felt too big for him, like he was just a kid playing at real love. What did a fifteen-year-old boy know about love, anyway? But yet, he always had a feeling that it was not the depth of his feelings for Devi that made him feel ridiculous, but the fact that he felt them despite the lack of reciprocity. “I love being with her. When I’m not with her, I have this nagging feeling all the time, like there’s something missing from the moment. But when she’s with Paxton, it’s like a punch in the gut.” 

“That sounds violent,” Shira sounded amused.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Their Uber arrived then, and he helped her off the curb. Thankfully, their driver didn’t attempt to make conversation, leaving them to stare out of their respective windows, lost in thought.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Shira suddenly spoke again, “I used to think it was a joke, you know. When people described what it felt like to be in love. I thought, that _has_ to be an exaggeration. It sounds like you’re describing a heart attack. Or dying.” She laughed, without much feeling. “Now I feel like it’s a joke that the whole world is in on but me.” 

“Oh,” Ben said, confused. It took a second for him to remember what they were talking about. “You’ve never…?”

She laughed again and looked at him. In the light of the amber streetlamps, her brown eyes seemed flecked with gold. Ben had always found her attractive, but her face changed when she was being sincere and there was no trace of her usual derision in her eyes. She looked younger than her Instagram photos would have you believe, and sad, almost. “Never.”

“Are you… aromantic?” he asked carefully.

She smiled and looked away again, fingers toying with the hem of her dress. “I’ve considered that. I don’t know. Do you think it’s weird?”

“Of course not,” Ben said immediately. He thought about how Devi’s parents had all but taken him in when he had no relation to them, and how Patty always remembered to cook him a special breakfast when he was especially nervous for a test or competition, even when his parents had no inkling. He thought about how Eleanor always made fun of him, but somehow always had the wisest advice, about Fabiola’s quiet, steady support. Most of all, he thought about Devi, of all the times she had been there for him, whether it was talking to him on the phone late into the night because his parents had left him all alone _again,_ or going out of her way to make sure he had the most amazing birthdays when his parents forgot, or even when he was upset about not doing as well on a test as he hoped and she just sat by him, knowing without words that it wasn’t a good time to taunt him. And as much as it hurt that she didn’t feel the same way, he treasured her friendship more than anything. “I think romantic love is just one of many ways to experience love. In my experience, I’m not even sure it’s the best one.” 

“It never feels that way though. Everyone keeps telling me that once I meet the right person, everything will make sense. But I _hate_ the concept of soulmates. It’s stupid that people go around believing that’s someone out there for everyone. But at the same time, maybe I really just haven’t met the right person yet. You never know, right?” Shira sighed plaintively. “It’s like everyone out there is just walking around with some gaping hole in them that only romantic love can fill, and I, I don’t know. I already feel complete.”

“Well, from what I know about these things, it’s a spectrum, right? Maybe you just have to figure out where you are on the spectrum,” Ben offered. “There’s no deadline on figuring yourself out.”

“Maybe,” she said. “You know a lot about these things for a straight, white guy.”

“It’s Devi,” he admitted. “She’s always talking about social justice and being a good ally and all that.” She made him a better person, and that was just one of the many things he liked about her.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about Paxton, if I were you,” Shira said after a while, looking out her window. “He and Zoe have been sending each other flirty snaps for like, weeks.”

“Maybe, but when I thought about how this night would go, I definitely didn’t imagine Paxton saving Devi from a wild coyote, so I suppose anything can happen,” Ben said, just a touch sardonically.

Shira laughed. It was genuine this time, not her usual short, sharp laughter that always seemed slightly mocking. “Don’t give Paxton too much credit. He didn’t actually _save_ her. She still got bitten, didn’t she?”

“I’m not sure that’s how she’ll see it, but thanks.”

“You know,” Shira said thoughtfully, “In another world, we’d probably be this power couple. If not for well, all this.” She gestured vaguely at the both of them. _If not for you being in love with someone else, and me being aromantic._ “You’d be able to get me into all some pretty Gram-worthy events, for sure.”

“And I’m sure you’d elevate my social status,” Ben acknowledged, and Shira smiled at that. 

“We could do it, you know. Be the power couple. Zoe’s always on my case about getting a boyfriend, and people are starting to think its weird that someone this hot doesn’t have _at least_ a side piece.” Shira tilted her head, considering her idea further. “Also, everyone knows romantic content gets the most attention on Instagram. For some reason.” 

He imagined the benefits – popularity, impressive Instagram photos that made everyone else jealous, having someone to call his girlfriend while Devi obsessed over another guy. “We could,” he said finally, “But I think I’d always feel like something was missing. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah. I would.” The Uber pulled up in front of Shira’s house. “Well, I guess this is me. Thanks for coming to the party, Ben.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he replied. “Have fun coding.”

“Yeah, it’ll be more fun than that party for sure.” Ben watched as she left, before checking his phone for the first time since he and Shira left the party. He had somehow received a million messages in those twenty minutes -

Eleanor: “DEVI GOT BIT BY A COYOTE??”

Eleanor: “Is it time for me to write a Spiderman AU where she gets coyote powers instead”

Eleanor: “Would you rather be Gwen Stacey or Mary Jane”

Eleanor: “Wait”

Eleanor: “Maybe Devi should be a Miles Morales type instead of Peter Parker. Let me think about this”

Fabiola: “Heard Paxton saved the day. You ok?”

Fabiola: “Hope you had a good time with Shira anyway!”

Fabiola: “If things don’t work out just say the word and I’ll built you a robot girlfriend. We’ll have to work out the kinks re consent tho”

Fabiola: “haha kinks ;)”

Devi: “AGHHHH I GOT FRIENDZONEDDDD”

Devi: “ALSO MY MOM GROUNDED MEEEE”

Devi: “BEN CALL ME NOWWW”

Ben laughed, despite himself, feeling lighter than he had in days. Maybe high school parties had more going for them than he had thought. Then, without any hesitation, he called Devi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had not set out to make Shira aromantic, but when I was writing that scene with her and Ben she said that line about how she felt like the whole world as in on a joke except for her, and everything fell into place for me, and I felt like I suddenly understood her - my version of her, anyway. I tried to do my research into writing aromantic characters, but I'm always open to feedback / comments. While I am alloromantic, I do share Ben and Shira's views that there are many equally important ways to experience love (as may be evident from half this chapter literally being a conversation between two friends even though this is supposed to be a shipping fic). 
> 
> As always, thanks for your comments and kudos, guys! I always love to hear what you all think :)

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't attend school in the United States, nor am I South Indian - I tried to do some research into spelling bee words / South Indian food etc., but apologies if I got anything wrong!


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